Guilt
by m-h-green
Summary: Draco thinks about the war that has just anded


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

Guilt. That was the only thing he felt. He knew that he should feel grief; his father had been sent to Azkaban after all. But it was hard to feel sorry for a man who had voluntarily joined the darkest wizard of all time and forced him to torture innocent people for fear of his family's life.

Draco thought back over the past two years. He had never wanted to join Voldemort, in fact by halfway through his sixth year it was only his strict upbringing keeping him from doing the opposite (he wouldn t have joined Potter or Dumbledore's gang, but he would have fought), but then suddenly his father was in Azkaban and his mother was in danger and he didn't have a choice.

So he had followed Voldemort's plan, knowing it was their only chance, and when Snape killed Dumbledore, Draco hated himself for feeling nothing but relief that he didn't have to do it himself.

However, during his seventh year Draco had a taste of what life would be like under Voldemort's reign. His family was continuously tortured, and people would be safe one minute, then dead the next. So, for completely selfish reasons, he had switched sides once again, and now it was over. Potter said he had made up for his past actions, but Draco knew it would take far more than that to stop the guilt crushing him.

"Draco?"

Draco snapped out of his thoughts immediately and pointed his wand in the direction of the voice. He hadn't realised it had got so dark.

"Who's there?"

"Relax, it's me, Astoria."

"Go away," he snapped, leaning back against the tree. He should have expected her to talk to him, she was after all the only person who knew the truth.

He had told her one day during sixth year, knowing his mother wouldn't want her parents thinking badly of her - she may have been in Slytherin, but it was well known that her entire family was neutral in the war. Draco had been sure she was the only person it was safe for him to tell.

Draco suddenly sighed out loud, and was surprised when Astoria spoke, he had thought she'd left.

"It wasn t your fault."

He ignored her, she had no way of knowing the horrific things he had done, although he had never directly killed anyone, and he certainly wasn't going to tell her. She was only sixteen, after all. Still a child.

But then, so was he. So was Crabbe, who had been his friend for almost seven years despite being an idiot. So was Potter, and so were so many others who had died fighting for a better life.

"Wasn't it?" he asked harshly in response to her statement. "Whose fault was it then?"

"Voldemort's", she replied calmly, so calmly that Draco raised an eyebrow. He hadn't heard anyone except Potter use the name for years. Even he had never said it, although that was only because his father had always expected him to say _The Dark Lord_ . Honestly, as if one new name wasn t enough.

Aloud, Draco said, "Don't be so naive Astoria. Each of the Death Eaters was responsible for their own actions. He just gave them an excuse."

Astoria glared at him. "You know perfectly well I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you."

"I am one of them, no matter how much I wish otherwise. I did terrible things to people, things I can never make up for."

"You _can_ make up for it," she insisted, her voice shaking. "You saved people too."

"I - how did you know that?"

"I saw. I was just about to stop it when you jumped in."

"She was an eleven year old girl! I was hardly going to just leave her. She sounded terrified, and I had no idea how long he was torturing her before I got there. Besides, all I did was stun him."

"All you did? Draco, you probably saved her life. Daphne told me she saw her in the Great Hall. Apparently she looked awful, but she's alive."

Draco nodded, but Astoria noticed his eyes were still full of pain. She said nothing, just took his hand and squeezed it gently.

"Why are you even talking to me?" he asked suddenly. "You should hate me."

"I already told you, it wasn t your fault!" she snapped. Draco was surprised at this sudden show of emotion, but didn't comment. "If you must know, I came to find you. Your mother's getting worried."

Astoria stood up, and when she tugged insistently on the hand he hadn't realised she was still holding, Draco joined her. As they started the walk back to the castle, Draco realised that although he still felt guilty, and probably always would, the weight was beginning to lessen.

_A/N - I never really liked Draco, but I think he's pretty intelligent, and probably knew exactly what he was doing, and this is how it turned out._


End file.
